High And Dry
by dunklenatt
Summary: Chapter 2 now. A very sick Fuji and a caring Tezuka. A FujixTezuka fic. Full summary and a prologue now included.
1. Summary

**Summary of High and Dry. **

Fuji Syuusuke, a small slender brunette, who is considered a genius by everyone, is in his first year in college. He studies performing arts and wishes to have a quiet college life; which is just hard because he attracts the attention of more than half of the college's female population and about another half of the college's homosexual/bisexual population. With his ever-present smile and gentle attitude, he tries to get by his college life by ignoring the thousands of love-letters and other unmentionable things that come spilling out of his mailbox every morning. He already has his eyes on someone – one who is tall and so good-looking, one who don't seem to even notice the smaller youth, one who seems so numb with his surroundings you can say he's emotionless. He knows it will not lead to anything but he is willing to give it a try.

Stylish has always been Tezuka Kunimitsu's way. If the other half of the college's female population weren't drooling over his smaller friend, they would definitely be running to Tezuka. Studying first-year law, Tezuka is just not the one to show a single fleeting emotion on his face. He prefers to keep it all inside; as it has always been for the past few years. Tennis is no longer his life, not after his injury, which prevented him from playing tennis. But he still plays the game that he loves so much, just for stress relief; and most of the time, his partner is Fuji Syuusuke, a boy whom he'd known since they were little.

Something happens to Fuji one day and Tezuka just have to deal with it; and that is when their worlds are turned upside down. And along that bumpy road trip, Tezuka discovers his true self and hopes it would not be too late for him to make changes that will affect his life soon after. How would their families react? Will one of them leaves the other high and dry?

A fiction of discovery, of truth and love – this is where the journey begins.

* * *

I know, I know… an extremely odd summary. I'm never good with summaries though… lmfao!! But the fic will be better, I can tell you that.


	2. Prologue

A/N: I know it's a little too late to include a prologue but… hehe, couldn't help it.

Pairing: Fuji x Tezuka.

Rating: At the moment, it's G. But rating goes up as more chapters go along.

Disclaimer: Sigh... tell you what, if this belongs to me, those two simple-minded boys… erm... I mean, Fuji and Tezuka wouldn't just be playing tennis…

Note: Fuji could be seme as well as Tezuka. It depends on my mood.

* * *

"Perfect! That was absolutely perfect!" The teacher clapped her hands. "Right, rehearsal dismissed! Come back tomorrow!" she called after the students that were already on their feet as they ran out of the auditorium.

He sighed as he walked off the stage. Several of his classmates were praising him, telling him just how good he was at acting, saying that he was going to pass with flying colours, despite this being his first play that he'd be evaluated in.

He smirked to himself as he walked along the dark corridors that led to the changing rooms. Of course he'd pass; he wouldn't be a genius for nothing now, could he? He opened his eyes just a fraction to look down at himself – dressed in a white long-sleeved shirt that with the first two buttons open, a brown jacket and black slacks. Needless to say, it's something Fuji wouldn't wear but for the sake of drama, what could he do?

He pushed open the door to the dressing room, grabbed his backpack and quickly changed out of his costume. Gripping his textbook in one hand and his schedule in the other, he made his way to his next class.

And as he turned a corner –

"Oophmm-"

He collided with something solid but no, it wasn't a wall. This was warm and although it's solid, it's soft as well.

"Sorry," he mumbled as he dropped to his knees without looking up at who he had collided into and collected his book and schedule as well as several music scores that fell out of the textbook. He wasn't even aware that he'd kept his scores there.

"Fuji," a hand landed on the round of his shoulder. "Are you alright?"

He lifted his head up and recognised that face in an instant. "Tezuka?"

A small smile; and those hands were on his arms immediately, helping him to his feet. "I'm sorry for that." Tezuka peered at Fuji closer, studying the fair boy as Fuji stooped down once again to pick up his remaining page of music scores, a slight pink dusting Fuji's cheeks. He noted the dark bags under Fuji's eyes and the small mouth drawn in a tight line. "Fuji, have you been sleeping right?"

Fuji straightened himself again as he shuffled his scores together before slipping them into his textbook once more. He cocked his head to one side as soon as he heard Tezuka's question. "Of course I've been sleeping. Why'd you asked that question?" A soft chuckle escaped his lips. "Do you still think it's your responsibility to take care of people? Tezuka, you're not the captain anymore. You don't have to worry about other people anymore."

He lifted his shoulders slightly and lowered them again as he looked at the top of Fuji's head. After all these years, Fuji still hadn't grown much; he was still that small little boy that Tezuka had gotten to know better since they were in elementary school together. "I know, Fuji, but I can't help it. Your upcoming drama and the sculpting business in your art class–" His hands were going around in circles, as if trying to emphasise or to explain something – he didn't know which.

"How'd you know?"

Tezuka shrugged again. "Through Eiji."

Fuji let out a small laugh. "Eiji – you can expect him to spread the news around. But he seems so quiet in art class, I barely notice him." A frown found its way to Fuji's face. "Is there a problem between him and Oishi?"

Tezuka turned to go away as he realised he was already late for his class. "See you later." And with a tight nod, he walked away.

Fuji watched the back of Tezuka as the other youth turned another corner and disappeared from his sight. He sighed as he made his way slowly to his music class. Somehow, the thought of sitting on a piano stool or with a violin tucked under his chin for the next two hours didn't seemed all that appealing. His mind kept drifting back to the taller teen as he walked along the corridors that seemed to be emptying as students scrambled to their own classes.

Tezuka – he'd missed the times he spent with Tezuka. He missed those days that he spent with Tezuka, those endless practices before and after each and every important tennis tournaments. It was Tezuka who worked so hard so that their school would be first-seeded, even in the Kanto division.

And most surprising of all, he's missed those eyes. Lately, he'd realised just how deep Tezuka's eyes were; their colour such a deep brown, even Fuji who took art classes couldn't simply describe the colour of Tezuka's eyes.

The class immediately shuffled accordingly when the teacher told them that they were to perform _Sin Medida_. And the maestro would be there to evaluate the whole class. If they're good, they might just have that small chance they'll be recommended to a famous university of performing arts to study musicology.

Frankly, he didn't give a damn. Fuji sighed as he opened the violin case that was passed to him, seeing as he'd forgotten to bring his violin along. He'd known this song by heart – it was scary. A song with a Spanish title that literally translated as "without measure" really _was_ without measure. This was a song that seemed endless, a very cantabile type of music, sure, but it was also a song where it's nothing but imitations and slurs and just plain sharp notes. The same verse repeated itself so much it was like that _Macarena_ song.

Surely music wouldn't be that boring, right? Right.

If it were, Fuji would've just offer to play something more interesting on the piano – a solo performance that would definitely get _him_ a scholarship to the famous Liverpool's Institute of Performing Arts. He wouldn't be known as a genius for nothing.


	3. Chapter 1

Pairing: Fuji x Tezuka.

Rating: At the moment, it's G. But rating goes up as more chapters go along.

Disclaimer: Sigh... tell you what, if this belongs to me, those two simple-minded boys… erm... I mean, Fuji and Tezuka wouldn't just be playing tennis…

Note: Fuji could be seme as well as Tezuka. It depends on my mood.

* * *

"Five games to four."

Fuji Syusuke's breathing was laboured, his chest burning as he tried to clear the fog in his mind and focused on the game.

"Fuji," a deep voice said.

Fuji immediately snapped out of his concentration, noting that as he did so, the throbbing in his head increased and he could hear his blood rushing to his body, trying to bring enough oxygen to his head, his heart pumping away. He nodded to his opponent, and braced himself for the impact of his opponent's serve.

The throbbing in his head was nearly unbearable; the edge of his vision tinged with darkness. He knew if he doesn't stop playing soon, he would black out. But he didn't care. He must beat his opponent, no matter the consequences. His muscles were aching, protesting and telling him that he should stop but he didn't want to. He would work until he reached his limit if he had to.

_But this **is** your limit. You can't go anymore._

He knew that. He just didn't want to admit to the fact that his body was shutting down slowly.

The third ball whizzed passed by him. He didn't even move a millimetre. Then, the fourth serve came. This time, Fuji went after it – despite his body screaming in agony. Beads of cold sweat broke out on his forehead as he pushed forward, straining his muscles as he worked, aiming to reach his goal. He managed to return that ball to the other side of the court.

There was a slight breeze. It sent chills right into Fuji's bones. This was the time. He could use the last of his Triple Threat. And Hakugai did appear. But that didn't mean he could win. There was no way he could win now. Maybe he could stand there just a little while, just to catch the ball. But his body betrayed him. A strange calmness washed over him as he let the darkness that he'd fought with since two hours ago took him into its endless abyss. He didn't even notice when he hit the ground.

It was perfect, albeit a little clumsy. His opponent just stared at the spinning the ball on the ground nearby – amazed and lost for words. This was the first time Fuji had used Hakugai against him. Did that mean Fuji was playing seriously against him this time? Distantly, he heard a sound, a small thud but he couldn't tore his gaze away from the spinning ball; so he continued to watch as the ball stopped spinning and bounced up from the ground and back to the other side of the court where it hit the fence before bouncing near a crumpled form.

"Fuji!" Tezuka's voice rang through the empty courts. The sky darkened rapidly as Tezuka ran over to Fuji's side of the court. He knelt hastily next to Fuji's body, watching the delicate frame that was Fuji moving slightly as the unconscious form took in every breath. "Fuji!" he slid his hands beneath Fuji and turned the smaller boy around so that he lay on his back instead.

At the sight of the face that flushed scarlet, the fringe plastered to the fair forehead, and the slender jaws ground together to keep from chattering, Tezuka knew something was wrong. His assumption of Fuji's flushed face was wrong and now, guilt seemed to swallow him. How could he let his friend into this when he knew deep down that Fuji was –

Tezuka reached out his left hand; his right hand remained at the side of the smaller body. He brushed the damp fringe aside and pressed his hand to his forehead.

Too warm.

Just something that he'd expected from a sick person. Why didn't Fuji just tell him? They wouldn't have to have the game then. Then again, he knew they both needed some stress relief. Besides, Tezuka really wanted to know whether Fuji would surpass him. It's unbelievable that their match even lasted that long. Both of them were so hard-headed, none of them wanted to admit defeat or tell the other that they should continue the game the next time. When Tezuka saw Fuji's flushed face, he thought that it was normal, since it happened most of the time to Fuji, seeing as Fuji had extremely fair complexion despite the fact that he spent hours under the sun for tennis.

Damn Fuji. Why didn't he just say something? Then again, it was his fault too. He should've known. After all, Fuji had been a little different today. He seemed to space out a lot and his breathing – it was slightly out of rhythm. He seemed… unfocused. He should've known! Tezuka felt like kicking himself for not noticing these small details. How could he not know?!

A raindrop hit Tezuka on the cheek. Damn, it's raining now? Why?! Why must it be now? Tezuka found himself praying. Not now, please, not now. Several drops hit him now. Oh, crap.

Whose home shall he go? Fuji's or his own?

He soon decided that it should be Fuji's since it was nearer. The only thing that worried him was that there was no one at Fuji's house. He seemed to remember vividly Fuji telling him that his parents were out on a business trip and would not return in three weeks while his brother was in a boarding school. He knew that Yuuta didn't want to go home because he didn't want to be compared to Fuji, even though Fuji was now already in college. It was just the same reason why Yuuta refused to stay at Seigaku and transferred to St. Rudolph instead when they were in junior high; and he stayed in St. Rudolph even when he was in high school. His sister, Yumiko was away on her company's business trip as well with some of her colleagues.

And Tezuka couldn't really bring Fuji over to his own house. Not at the moment though. Rain was threatening to fall in sheets and if he didn't hurry soon, Fuji would be worse than he already was.

As the rain fell in its own slow rhythm, Tezuka quickly collected their racquets and after stuffing them into their respective bags, he hefted both bags and shouldered them. He walked back to where Fuji was and slipped both arms under Fuji and lifted the smaller boy.

Fuji immediately moved in his delirium and shifted nearer to the source of heat, snuggling closer to Tezuka's body. Tezuka's heart skipped several beats when Fuji shifted again and his left hand clutched a small handful of Tezuka's shirt. Tezuka nearly dropped Fuji while trying to pry open the slender fingers that imprisoned a little of his shirt. Throughout the whole thing, Fuji's eyelids didn't even twitch. He's not showing a single sign of waking up soon.

Tezuka strode away from the courts quickly, didn't want to be caught in the rain. Soon, rain enveloped the two boys. He glanced worriedly at the burning body in his arms. There was nothing he could use to at least bundle Fuji in so that the rain wouldn't get him. But he was nearly there.

Tezuka could see Fuji's house now. He quickly entered the yard and into the porch. Noticing a swing of some sort in the porch, Tezuka deposited the small body on the swing before putting down the bags. Unzipping Fuji's bag, he rummaged through the clothes and found a bunch of keys. Great, which key would it be?

"Wh… where … how…" a soft voice croaked.

Tezuka turned around and saw Fuji, trying to pull himself into a sitting position.

As soon as he managed to sit, a wave of nausea hit him and the world around him spun for a moment – which seemed endless to him.

"Fuji, you shouldn't try…" Tezuka tried to get Fuji to sit again when he saw Fuji struggling to get to his feet.

Fuji shook his head. "Go home."

"But you…"

Fuji swallowed thickly; his eyebrows burrowing as he felt burning pain along his throat. "I… I c… can manage…"

Tezuka eyed Fuji worriedly. The teenager was swaying precariously on his feet. "Now you're just delirious."

"M'not." Tezuka allowed a small smile when he heard such an indignant reply escaping Fuji's pale lips.

He suppressed a groan as pain tore through him when he tried to move from his place by the swing to help Tezuka. It felt like it was trying to tear him apart – his feverish condition not helping at all.

As the fleeting pain passed, Fuji let himself flop down on the swing again; eyes close, his breathing shallow and rapid, sweat forming and gathering on his forehead, neck, chest and back, soaking through his clothes. His shirt stuck uncomfortably to his body.

Tezuka looked at the keys in his hands and at the door and shifted his gaze back at the keys again. Which key for the door? His fingers lingered on each and every key and in the end, made his decision. Picking up one of the keys from the bunch, he pushed the key in and with a slight turn of his wrist, he heard the almost inaudible click. Hearing the click had been one of the best things he'd wanted to hear all his life.

"Come, Fuji, let's get you dried up…" Tezuka mumbled as he helped Fuji from the swing. He drew Fuji's right arm across his shoulders and wrapped his own arm around the slim waist. Slowly, they made their way into the grand living room. He could vaguely recalled being in Fuji's house before – sure, he went there a few times when they were in junior high but now, after five years of not being in Fuji's house, he'd totally forgotten his way around. He remembered going up a flight of stairs – parquet, and polished to its best.

Tezuka let his eyes rove and soon, he found what he was looking for. There they were, after that small little arch that led to the kitchen. "Come, Fuji," he breathed as he helped Fuji to his feet again – but to no avail. His smaller friend seemed to have fallen asleep and would not wake anytime soon. Tezuka gave a soft sigh as he slipped his arms under Fuji once more and lifted the pale youth, his goal being Fuji's bedroom now.

Surprisingly, Tezuka found Fuji's bedroom rather easily. The door was slightly ajar – it showed how careless Fuji had been that day. Tezuka pushed the door open with his foot and entered the immaculate room. Putting Fuji down on the executive chair near his study table, he removed Fuji's shoes and looked around for a towel.

Tezuka grabbed the white fluffy towel that was draped carelessly on a small stool near the walk-in closet. It was slightly damp from earlier use but it'd do. He wrapped the towel around the shivering Fuji who wasn't even aware of the two warm hands that removed his shirt and patted him down to get rid of the rainwater that soaked him right through his clothes.

"Fuji." Tezuka shook him awake. "Fuji…"

He opened his bleary eyes and stared at the fuzzy face of another person. What now? Why can't he see? He needed to sleep. His eyes started to close again on their own accord but snapped open again as Tezuka shook his shoulders again.

"Fuji, go take a shower. You wouldn't wanna get worse."

Fuji blinked back blankly. What? Shower?

That sounded nice.

He didn't even realised that he'd said that out loud.

Tezuka's lips turned up in a small smile as he pulled Fuji slowly to his feet and propelled him to the adjoining bathroom. The sooner he got himself in the shower, the better. Besides, he needed a shower himself, after being caught in the rain for quite some time. He didn't want to get sick when he already had one patient to look after. He gave Fuji a slight push into the bathroom and handed him a fresh towel that he found after rummaging through Fuji's wardrobe, and several pieces of clothing.

"Tez'ka?" a soft voice asked slowly, accompanied by a sharp intake of breath by Fuji. He hoped he hadn't got pneumonia.

Tezuka turned around, standing a head taller than Fuji and gazed down at the brunette before him.

"There're extra clothes somewhere in my wardrobe. Something much more bigger than me that I think you could use," Fuji said softly, his hands working on the drawstrings on the inside of his shorts, his muscles flexing as he struggled with the knot.

Tezuka thought he'd died and went to heaven when Fuji did that. His pulse raced, his blood rushing to his head madly and his world dizzy for a bit. Slight pink dusted his cheeks as he lowered his gaze. "Thanks," he croaked slowly.

"No…. thank _you._" Fuji stepped slowly into the bathroom, obviously still a little dizzy.

Tezuka wouldn't blame him; he was feeling a little dizzy himself. A little more than a furious blush crept up his cheeks. It's a good thing that Fuji was already safely behind that closed door. If it weren't for that fact, he would've laughed at Tezuka's condition.

Another furious blush coloured Tezuka's cheeks when he heard water running from the other side of that door. He could see Fuji in the shower, surrounded by hot steam, his hair matted on his beautifully shaped head – exotic dark chestnut-coloured strands dripping water – as water poured down on his pale, slender body; running along the contours of a body that Tezuka had seen countless of times. He found it really hard to breathe, that image of a naked Fuji in the shower burnt and imprinted in his mind's eye forever.

"What's happening?" he mumbled to himself as he searched through Fuji's wardrobe for something big enough for him to fit in. He found a t-shirt that was rather big for Fuji and decided that he would be able to wear it and found another pair of shorts, a pair of khaki-coloured three quarters that had fitted Fuji perfectly. He'd seen him in those before. For Tezuka, maybe those three quarters would just be like knee-length shorts. Good enough.

He found another towel while on his way to the bathroom that was on the ground floor of the house. He needed a shower and he needed it fast. He needed to get rid of the image of a naked Fuji from his mind – he truly must. Tezuka sighed in solace when a burst of cold water hit him, streaming down his neck and back, wetting his hair and matting them onto his head. The cold was comforting but – but he still couldn't take that image away. Under the water spray and his blurred vision, he saw his arousal – oh hell. Could Fuji be that much of an influence to him?

He felt like he'd been thrown into a whirlwind – but honestly, he didn't know what he felt toward that small brunette or at least how their friendship stood at the moment, where _he _stood in that bond that bound them together for so many years. Was this something that they call desire? Did he desire for Fuji now? Strange… considering the fact that he'd been friends with Fuji ever since they were like in elementary school together – why didn't he feel anything toward Fuji while in his junior high years or something? Why now? Why must it be at the time when they're going to go their own ways, at the time when they were all at the threshold of their adulthood?

Another image of a sweating Fuji entered his mind. Damn. But Fuji's just too sexy to ignore – the way those slim hips move in rhythm when the owner himself moved, those brown strands of hair moving with the air that surrounded the beautiful owner; the deep, rich cerulean colour of those eyes that were Fuji's and Fuji's only.

Tezuka leaned on the tiled wall; his breathing hitched as the thought of a pliant Fuji lying on his bed, fingers crooking and inviting him to join him, to taste him. How come he just couldn't seem to get the idea of a sensuous – and overly attractive and sexually arousing – Fuji out of his head? Everywhere he turned, he could see Fuji, in every sort of way that his brain could come up with.

Tezuka was confused. Was this what they call lust? Or love? Or just plain desire? But what if…

He decided to leave his thoughts there. He'd figure it out soon, but not now. Fuji needed him now, and probably even more as the day lasted.

Putting the kettle to boil, Tezuka went up to Fuji's room to check on the tawny-haired boy. He was slightly surprised to find Fuji in bed, his hair still slightly wet from the shower and the towel strewn somewhere on the floor near the bathroom door. He watched as Fuji's chest rose and dropped rhythmically with each breath he took, his eyelids not even twitching once.

Tezuka stooped down to pick up the discarded towel and shirt and dropped it into the laundry basket near the bathroom door. A clock on Fuji's study table showed twenty-four minutes to six. It's time for him to phone home and inform his grandparents that he'd be staying over at a friend's. He sighed when he realised he'd have to cook and prepare dinner for both of them, if Fuji would want to eat.

Then again, Tezuka found it really hard to disturb the sleeping form. He just couldn't bring himself to wake such a beautiful angel. How could he? He needed to see this true side of Fuji, even for a minute more – the side that Fuji didn't hide, couldn't hide seeing as he didn't have the power to control his face muscles when he's sleeping. This was the time when Fuji wasn't smiling, showing his real face to the other boy who was mesmerised by this beautiful creature whom he'd fallen head over heels in love with – although he couldn't bring himself to admit so.


	4. Chapter 2

Blue Orbs-Blue: Your wish is granted. This is the next chapter. I'm glad you like the last part… ;p

Purple jellybean hoarder: Awww… why aren't you a tezufuji fan? But that's okay… Chapter 2's here!

Ikyutakei: Thanx!! And yes, I'm continuing this, definitely.

Azer: Thanx! Yeah, I agree with the thing about Fuji being able to be seme or uke. Read my songfic (it's NC-17 so it's under the R section of Tennis no Ohjisama) and you'll get a very seme Fuji… hehe!! So, yeah, check back from time to time to see if I'm updating… haha!

inulover28: Thanx! And yes, I'll continue… haha!

Vanilla Fox: I'm glad you like that bit … I like a very sexy Fuji and there's this pic of Fuji in white (which is _so _hot!) is _not_ helping at all when I wrote this… lol! [squeals together with Vanilla Fox].

souka-chan: I'm glad you like this chapter and hehe… am happy that you like the little details and Tezuka's confusions… haha!!

monkey sushi: Yes, twin star of mine, you're never good in reviewing … so I'll let you go… lmao!! And to answer your question in your second review, I think Fuji's the private type when it comes to his room. He wouldn't want his family members to go prying around, so yeah, I think he'll shut his room's door all the time (like me… lol!).

Yuu-chan: Your enthusiasm is just too flattering… here's the next chapter.

* * *

Pairing: Fuji x Tezuka.

Rating: Okay, one level up now… it's PG-13 due to some content in this chapter. But the rating will still go up as more chapters come along.

Disclaimer: [Sigh] tell you what, if this belongs to me, those two simple-minded boys… [ahem] I mean, Fuji and Tezuka wouldn't just be playing tennis…

Note: Fuji could be seme as well as Tezuka. It depends on my mood. Characters are very OOC; this is AU (no more interschool competitions and all); they're all in college and no, they don't belong to me.

And another extra note: Just a little jacking/jerking off somewhere in this chapter… ;p

* * *

Tezuka busied himself as he took one container out of the microwave and put another one in it. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a slim figure slumped over the marbled top of the dining table, arms cradling the owner's brown head. So, Fuji had decided to wake up now. Tezuka was glad he didn't need to wake him. He'd felt guilty enough when he'd let Fuji played tennis even though he was sick. He should've known better.

He opened the microwave door for a while to check its content before adding more water into the container and leave it in the microwave as he turned the gadget back on. He knew in about 3 minutes, the porridge would be ready. Just to occupy his time, Tezuka turned and leaned against the refrigerator as he stared at the sleeping figure. He'd never seen Fuji so weak, so… vulnerable before.

Surely he wouldn't be that sl –

The beep of the microwave tore Tezuka away from his thoughts as he got the food out and set it on the table.

"Fuji," he called softly, shaking the smaller boy's shoulders. "Fuji!"

His eyelids fluttered open slowly, looking at his arms for a while before lifting his head and saw Tezuka. "Tez'ka?" he mumbled, eyes still bleary and his mind still fogged with sleep. Everything seemed so sluggish for him, everything moving so slowly. Tezuka's voice sounded as if it came from a tunnel; the throbbing in his head never ceasing.

Tezuka's hand on his forehead, cool yet firm. When he withdrew his hand, Fuji found himself wanting more – more of that coolness that was Tezuka. He realised he needed Tezuka more than he ever could. Maybe Tezuka could take his pain away. He wondered briefly whether Tezuka felt the same way about him – a feeling so raw and new, it frightened him so much.

Fuji stopped himself from thinking any further. Surely this must be his fever's doing. He wouldn't think of Tezuka that way. Would he?

"Here," Tezuka said as he pushed a bowl in front of Fuji and handed him a spoon.

Fuji squinted through the bleariness. Was it just him or was Tezuka smiling? It might just be a small twitch of his lips or maybe just a small lift at the sides of his mouth. But oh, Tezuka was smiling! It made Fuji wanted to smile also but he couldn't. It was too tiring to smile at the moment – the main reason why Fuji had dropped the smile that was normally plastered to his face. He noticed too that his friend no longer had that serious mask that he used all the time. There was actually warmth in those brown eyes and the frown lines were gone, replaced with smoothness that Fuji never knew existed in Tezuka's features.

Tezuka tore himself away from Fuji to get his noodles. He knew Fuji was staring at him, scrutinising him slowly, raking him with those glazed cerulean eyes. He returned with a bowl and sat himself down in front of Fuji who was nibbling on the porridge at tip of the small spoon that seemed to fit Fuji's slender hand perfectly.

He looked down at his own bowl and realised he hadn't had anything to eat his noodles with. Tezuka got up again to pick up a pair of chopsticks before sitting down. He turned his attention to the other boy when he heard the laboured breathing growing slightly louder. He glanced over the edge of his bowl of steaming noodles and rested his eyes on the boy sitting before him.

Fuji was looking at his own bowl of porridge; eyes opened enough to show slivers of cerulean blue, mouth opened for easier breathing, spoon in bowl and his hand immobile on the other end of the spoon, his hair hung artfully over his eyes. He felt so warm; was there no air-conditioner here or what? He nearly screamed with frustration, but realised it would've taken too much of his strength to do so. Instead, he kept his gaze on his porridge. He could feel sweat breaking out on his forehead; no coherent thoughts in his mind at all. It seemed as if his mind was jumping from topic to topic – one minute it was thinking of tennis, the other thinking about Tezuka before doing a total turn and went back to tennis and how the Golden Pair…

Worried, Tezuka cleared his throat silently and called out in a small voice, "Fuji?"

Tezuka was really a beautiful creature. His face features were sharp, his facial structures so defined. Fuji's eyes went over those pink lips, high cheekbones, soft brown eyes that were shield by his glasses and more than often with his sternness. And those eyes – those beautiful brown eyes that sparkled proudly and lovingly when something that he'd wanted happened. But now, those eyes were confused, clouded over slightly with bemusement.

"Fuji!" a little more sharply now this time.

The tawny-haired boy's head snapped up, his cheeks that were already flushed with fever turning several shades darker. Taking a small sip of his orange juice, Fuji directed his glazed and somewhat over-warmed eyes to the figure sitting opposite him. Through tired eyes, he could make out the worry in Tezuka's voice and the gentleness in his brown eyes – his guard let down unconsciously due to his worry toward his smaller friend.

A small smile was placed instantly on Fuji's lips as he lowered his glass to shift his gaze directly at Tezuka.

"Are you alright?" Tezuka asked again as his gaze raked Fuji's drawn and pale face.

"Aa."

It was a short reply that could've spoke a thousand words but deep down inside, Tezuka knew Fuji wasn't really fine. He knew the pain of being ill and he knew how it felt during its first few days – the weight of the fever and all. He just hoped that Fuji wouldn't collapse again. His first experience with an unconscious Fuji was frightening enough, even for a person like Tezuka.

"I… I can't…" even before Fuji could finish his sentence, his hand flew to his mouth as he stumbled out of his chair and dashed to the nearest bathroom. He knew Tezuka was close behind but –

Fuji collapsed onto his knees before the toilet as his stomach gave up what few spoonfuls of dinner he ate. He could feel his stomach churned and heaved, as he seemed to retch endlessly.

"Fuji?"

The tawny-haired teenager retched again.

"_Fuji_?" his voice was more insistent now.

He retched again. And again. And again. And again. And again.

A hand settled awkwardly on his back and rubbed small soothing circles there. As awkward as it was, Fuji seemed to relax and his stomach seemed to unclench itself as he retched one last time. When his retches were nothing but dry heaves and his stomach felt absolutely empty, he fumbled clumsily for the flush.

As he regained his senses, Fuji realised he was sitting on the cold, tiled bathroom floor. Apparently, his knees had given away while he was too busy emptying his stomach. Holding the side of the toilet for support, Fuji hauled himself slowly to his feet and stood unsteadily as he wobbled to the sink. One hand held the side of the sink for support while the other clumsily fumbled for the tap. He splashed some water on his face before rinsing out the vile taste in his mouth. When he looked up from the spotless marbled sink, his world started spinning again – slowly at first, its speed building as it went along. He closed his eyes briefly and shook his head to clear the dizziness.

"Fuji!" he was aware of two arms wound loosely across his chest and a rather cool body behind him, supporting his back. Fuji blinked before turning his head slowly to look at the other teenager behind him through the corner of his eyes. His lips moved but no sound came out.

"You kinda collapsed." From the look on Fuji's face, Tezuka could only came up with two conclusions: it's either 1) Fuji didn't realised he'd collapsed or somehow fell as if he was about to faint, or 2) he just didn't believe a thing that Tezuka had said. He decided it would've been the first guess.

He struggled to get to his feet, but it seemed as if all his energy had been drained out. He felt as if his limbs were of wet cardboard, he couldn't move anything; his strength leaving him as he slid further down, the coolness that he'd longed for holding him tighter with every passing second. His eyelids drooped as he welcomed the endless darkness that seemed to come to him at intervals now.

Tezuka had to tightened his arms around Fuji when he felt the other boy sliding. Arms caught under Fuji's arms and hauled him up, holding him tighter against his own body. Tezuka hoped Fuji was too tired to realise just how much he'd awakened Tezuka's senses with this proximity – even though Fuji was innocent. Or was he? He hoped Fuji wouldn't notice the bulge that was pressed against his lower back. Tezuka moaned softly as Fuji shifted a little, the innocent boy unconsciously causing some friction that probably sent Tezuka's libido into overload.

Fuji had leaned onto Tezuka's body for support now, his honey-coloured hair brushing Tezuka's nose, tickling his senses. He could smell something banana-ish yet mint-y in Fuji's hair. It was exotic yet a sort of smell Tezuka couldn't make out. He buried his nose in the smaller teen's hair, inhaling softly, remembering the lingering sweet smell of the shampoo that Fuji used before whispering in a voice huskier than he'd expected, "It's time I get you a doctor, Fuji." He dropped a kiss in Fuji's hair before lifting the boy into his arms and carried him into the living room before putting him on the black settee.

Fuji was getting tired of this black abyss that he'd been in for so long. He wanted to get out of here, to go out there. He really didn't want to sleep anymore. In fact, he's tired of sleeping. This sort of sleep never helped a bit. It might seemed as if he'd slept for a long, long time but still, he would wake to find that his fatigue was still there and his energy not restored at all.

He fought his consciousness that was telling him to sleep; he fought the fog that clouded his brain, shrouding it with confusion and fatigue. He could feel sleep beckoning for him again, dragging him back to the realm where he never knew where he was, no longer knew anything, without any coherent thoughts except for his body urging him to sleep and his brain shutting down slowly so that he could rest.

He heard voices, low and almost inaudible. Who was that? Wasn't he alone? Sleep started pressing in again but he struggled to stay at the brink of consciousness. Voices he thought he knew in one minute and the other, he could hardly recognise them at all. Who was in his house? Who else was there? The great heavy weight settled in his mind again, pressing harder.

Harder now, almost unbearable.

He could feel himself slipping away from consciousness, back into his dream realm, back into the darkness that seemed to surround him almost every minute of the day now.

"Fuji, he's gone," a voice said. Who was that? How on earth did he know his name? How did he –

"Come Fuji, he says you must at least get one spoonful of this in your system." A voice he knew so well. But who was it?

A firm arm, propping up his shoulders; cold metal at his lips, a liquid tipped deftly down his burning throat. Fuji swallowed automatically. The world wildly spun again, even though he was still in his realm of sleep. Panic came flooding again – who was that? Who was that that he knew? He knew someone?

The sickly sweet liquid was still there, clinging to the back of his throat evilly. Fuji swallowed thickly but couldn't get that almost vile taste out of his mouth. What on earth? What was that? If only he could spit it out – but he was too tired. That arm slipped away from his shoulders, putting him back where he belonged.

Tezuka looked at fitful figure on the couch before deciding that he should get Fuji to bed. Perhaps he would be a little more comfortable there than being on that black leather couch. He picked up the spoon and put it on the kitchen sink before returning to the living room to—

"Fu… Fuji!" Tezuka nearly yelled at the swaying figure. "What are you doing?"

Blank eyes simply stared back at Tezuka. "Don't worry about me." He seemed to sigh as he put one foot in front of his other slowly, making his way slowly away from the couch.

Tezuka was on the alert, his arms outstretched, ready to catch Fuji just in case he would fall again.

Miraculously, Fuji managed to get himself to bed without Tezuka's help. Tezuka even left him at one point to get something from the kitchen. Hugging the walls as he went along, Fuji finally found the door to his room and collapsed gratefully on his bed once he got close enough. He gave in to the sleep that had been calling him as soon as his head touched the pillow.

Tezuka went in just a few minutes later to find Fuji sound asleep on the bed. He opened the window as wide as they could go. Standing in the middle of the room, Tezuka gave himself a small nod of satisfaction. The room's airing was perfect.

Noting that Fuji's fever had gone down a little since earlier that day, he tucked Fuji in carefully so as not to wake the smaller teen. Unconsciously, he dropped a kiss on the warm but pale lips; a kiss of reassurance that was so chaste it'd seemed as if it's natural that Tezuka should do it.

_'Wait a minute!'_ Tezuka's mind shouted.

No! It's wrong! This shouldn't have happened! Why on earth would he kissed Fuji?! No, no, no, _no_!!

_'Does that mean I'm gay?'_

Tezuka's fingers went to his lips immediately. What had he done? But, but, he'd loved it. He really loved it, didn't he? His senses seemed to awaken as he pondered over the matter. Damn. Was it just him or was his pants getting tighter? Oh, hell.

His gaze shifted from the sleeping figure cocooned in those blankets and back to his arousal. Hang on, he's getting an arousal just because of Fuji?

The image of a naked Fuji in bed flashed before his mind again. And this time, the tightness in his pants and the aching of his loins seemed to confirm everything.

Okay, so he's gay. Great. Now, how was he going to tell Fuji about it? He couldn't keep it a secret forever, nor could he just ignore Fuji and get himself another guy. No wonder he's never excited when he was around girls that were of their age. He's gay!

Tezuka would've laughed out loud with that realisation but he remembered the sleeping teenager in the room. Besides, he was getting light-headed by the aching of his arousal. He realised he needed release and he needed one, fast!

He quickly exited the room and made his way to the bathroom that was on the ground floor. The farther he was from Fuji, the better. He wouldn't want Fuji to hear a single thing.

Stripping off his clothes quickly and noting how much he'd swelled and realised how much he ached, Tezuka stepped under the streaming spray of lukewarm water and watched the droplets of water running down his length, wetting it thoroughly in the process.

He wrapped his hand around his hard, aching shaft and started pumping slowly as his other hand searched for the spot right behind his balls. That hand moved occasionally, from rubbing that sensitive spot to massaging his balls to relieve the growing ache before going back to the spot; his other hand never ceasing its pumping as its thumb stroke on the length almost forcefully.

Something warm leaked out of his manhood as he stroked harder, and faster. The familiar sensations came flooding again; of him being pushed to the top until he had nowhere to go. His pace quickened even more. If anyone were to do this dry at the speed Tezuka was going, skin would definitely be chapped in long run.

Fuji, naked, hands on his length, his mouth hot and moist on the head…

A moan tore from his throat as warm white liquid spilt onto his hand that was still pumping away; washed away quickly by the water that was still spraying from the showerhead above him. He stroked his length a few more times, twisting his hand once in a while to empty himself totally before he turned his full attention to the shower, his fatigue starting to settle in.

A few minutes later, he was dressed again; his urge finally released – although in a way that he hadn't wanted it to be but nonetheless, satisfied that the ache was gone. Knowing that it was still a little early, Tezuka decided to make a short trip back to his house to collect some things that he might need if he's going to stay at Fuji's for the next few days. He remembered that he must also buy some medicine for Fuji from the pharmacy.

After making sure that Fuji was deeply asleep – a side effect of that medicine the doctor told him to give Fuji – Tezuka took the keys to the house from the beautiful intricate glass bowl on the mantle by the door and left the house with his tennis bag and the prescription list that the doctor had given him earlier.

Fuji awoke slowly to find himself in total darkness, except for the weak light from the full moon that somehow managed to broke into his room. He felt better although his mind was still slightly disoriented and his limbs still a little weak. He was vaguely aware of his t-shirt sticking to his back, damp with sweat as he got up from his bed and sat at the edge of the bed, waiting for his strange wave of nausea to pass.

Odd, he knew there was someone else in the house with him; someone who'd made him dinner. He found a glass of water on the bedside table and his window wide open. He looked at the fluttering curtains as the wind from outside caught the rustling cloth. Realising how uncomfortable he felt, Fuji decided to take just one more shower before going back to bed.

Okay, I believe this isn't as good as the first, not that I'm very satisfied with the first chapter either. But anyway, reviews are appreciated.


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